


Fun Police

by chronicopheliac



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Crack, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, I'm still terrible, M/M, Prostitute Hannibal, Sharing a Bed, Sorry Not Sorry, Undercover As Gay, Undercover as a Couple, coffee shop AU, except not really, except nothing happens, forced bed sharing, fucking with tropes, i'm such a horrible person, rent boy will
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-11-13 08:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11180505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicopheliac/pseuds/chronicopheliac
Summary: Intended to be a series of short fics messing with common fanfiction tropes. Because I guess I get bored sometimes and my brain goes to wacky places.





	1. Coffee Shop AU

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even properly remember how this started, except that I was talking to a few Fannibal buddies about fanfiction tropes, and how they were never really realistic. Which is, of course, the whole POINT, I know, but I'm a jerk and thought it would be fun to try writing some tropes where they just... don't work the way they normally do. XD I have a bunch I want to get through, I'm not sure if I'll ever do them all, but I do have a few.

Will was in a foul mood.

Of all days for his coffee maker to break. After another fitful night. Every time he fell asleep, he was plagued by nightmares. He was exhausted. But he had to make it through the day, whether he liked it or not. It was the last day before exams.

The coffee shops on campus held little appeal. Expensive, crowded, noisy. Instead, Will stopped by a cafe closer to home. He intended to go to one of the chains, Dunkin’ Donuts or something, but the lineups. Ugh.

And so he found himself at a quiet little cafe, with no drive-thru, and fussy little baked goods lined up in a fussy little display.

“Hello,” said the man at the counter. His name tag read ‘Hannibal’. Who named their kid Hannibal? “What can I get for you today?”

“Uh, just a regular coffee. Black. To go.”

“Might I interest you in–”

“Just coffee.”

With a nod, Hannibal grabbed a paper cup and filled it to the brim from a French press. It all seemed unnecessarily fancy, for just regular coffee.

He covered the cup and handed it to Will, eyes crinkling with a smile. “That will be four dollars, please.”

“Four dollars for a regular cup of coffee?”

“They’re very fine beans, from–”

“Fine, whatever. Keep the change.” Will threw a wad of one dollar bills on the counter and left.

Four dollars for a regular goddamn cup of coffee. Ridiculous. He definitely wouldn’t be returning to that coffee shop again.

***

Hannibal was in a pleasant mood.

The new baked goods he’d been offering were getting quite popular. The scones, in particular. It always pleased him when people enjoyed his baking, but the scones were special. His own recipes, perfected over many painstaking hours to get the flavours and textures just right.

His shop had only been open for a couple of months, but he was gaining popularity quickly. He was even featured in the local paper.

The bell on the door chimed rather violently, jarring him from his thoughts. A scruffy, unkempt man approached the counter.

“Hello. What can I get for you today?”

The man didn’t meet Hannibal’s eyes. “Uh, just a regular coffee. Black. To go.”

“Might I interest you in–”

“Just coffee.”

Rude. He didn’t know what he was missing. The scones were delicious. Hannibal filled a cup and covered it, handing it over with a smile. No reason to greet rudeness with rudeness, after all.

“That will be four dollars, please.”

A deep frown furrowed the man’s brow. “Four dollars for a regular cup of coffee?”

Hannibal frowned back, offended. “They’re very fine beans, from–”

“Fine, whatever.” He dug out a wad of bills from his pockets. The jerk didn’t even have a wallet? “Keep the change.”

Hannibal let out a sigh of relief when the man left. What a cranky, unpleasant individual he was. Well, there was no point in wasting his thoughts, or his mood, on him for another second. He hoped never to see him again.


	2. Forced Bed Sharing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is terrible. I know I'm terrible. But I can't help myself. I think I'm funny, at least, right? XD OMFG.
> 
> I had a list of tropes and I have no idea where I put it, so if anyone has any suggestions for other ones, then let me know in the comments! :D

There was only one bed.

It was the only room left in the entire motel. Apparently, there was some kind of sports event going on, and most of the accommodations in the area were sold out.

Will sighed and dropped his suitcase on the stool by the door. “I should warn you, I sweat. A lot. And I have nightmares.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Hannibal stood in the doorway and peered inside.

“It really is.”

Shrugging, Hannibal dropped his own suitcase on the dresser and cast a glance around the room. “I’ll call room service and ask for extra sheets. Perhaps some more pillows, as well.”

“I can’t believe they didn’t even have any cots left.”

“It’s a busy time, it seems.”

“Yeah.” Will hissed a breath and stared at the bed.

An awkward silence settled between them. Hannibal went to the phone and called for more sheets and pillows, while Will took a shower.

He came out of the bathroom, dressed in his t-shirt and boxers. Hannibal had arranged the bed with the sheets so they would each have their own. Will couldn’t help his sigh of relief. At least if he was rolled up in his own sheets, he wouldn’t risk disturbing Hannibal on his side of the bed.

“Bathroom’s free.”

“Thank you, Will.”

By the time Hannibal was done with his evening routine, Will was already curled up and dozing, facing the window. It was late, so it was a mercy Hannibal didn’t try to make any conversation.

He got into bed and rolled onto his side, facing away from Will. “Good night, Will.”

“Night.”

***

The nightmare came only a couple of hours into their sleep. Will jarred awake, drenched in sweat and gasping. Hannibal sat up and turned on a lamp.

“Is everything all right, Will?”

“N– yeah. I’m fine. Just. Nightmare, like I said. Sorry.” Will got out of bed and gathered up his sheets and pillows.

“It’s no trouble. Anything I can do to help?” Hannibal made to swing his legs over the bed, but Will’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Nah. It’s probably best if I just stay in the tub instead.”

Hannibal settled back again, rearranging his covers. “That won’t be very comfortable.”

“It’s just for the night. I’ll survive.”

“Very well.”

“Good night. Again.”

“Good night.”

The tub was way too small and ridiculously uncomfortable. But instead of nightmares, Will dreamed of wild Atlantic Winstons swimming upstream for mating season.

Meanwhile, Hannibal dreamed of winning first place in a Baltimore cooking contest with his pate sculpture of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus.


	3. Fake Relationship (Bonus Trope: Undercover Gay Bar)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look more disappointment! This one was a challenge to come up with a way that they DIDN'T end up together I swear. Damn... chemistry. And shit. I think I managed to make it work, though? LOL

The pounding music vibrated down to Will’s bones. He hated clubs. A glance at Hannibal confirmed he felt the same way. It was obvious in the tension of his jaw. Or maybe it was the wardrobe. Snug black jeans and a black shirt, unbuttoned down to the centre of his chest. And yet, to anyone else, he still managed to look at ease. Like he belonged there.

“See anything?” Will struggled to be heard over the music. His own wardrobe for the evening wasn’t all that different from what he usually wore, but everything fit a bit… tighter. Jimmy insisted it would be more believable.

“Nothing, yet. Perhaps we should go to the bar and get a drink.”

That was a fantastic idea. Will nodded, and followed Hannibal to the bar. A colourful young person, with pink wings and a unicorn horn, sidled over to take their drink orders. Will asked for whiskey, neat. He didn’t quite catch what Hannibal ordered, but the unicorn returned with something purple. There was fruit on the rim of the glass.

Will downed his whiskey in one gulp. “This guy’s been cautious so far, he might not even turn up. You don’t have to be here, you know.”

“Nonsense, Will. I’m happy to help in any way I can, and two sets of eyes on the lookout are certainly better than one. Especially in this type of environment.” The bastard had the gall to look amused. He took a delicate sip of his purple, fruity drink.

“It would have been better to bring Jack, though. Or another agent. This could get dangerous.”

“While Jack is an excellent agent, I don’t think he would be… convincing, here.”

Following Hannibal’s gaze, Will caught sight of two men on a nearby sofa, coiled around each other. The flashing lights made it impossible to tell whose limbs belonged to whom.

“You may have a point. Okay. Well, we should, uh, split up and–”

“Well hello, rumpled and handsome. You look so lonely over here.” A tall, muscular man slid in next to Will at the bar. A bit too close. His teeth looked ultraviolet under the black lights. “And you drink’s empty, too. You want a refill?”

“U-uh. N-no… thank you.” Will stepped back. “I-I’m–”

“He’s not here alone,” said Hannibal, closing the distance from behind. He hooked his arm around Will’s waist, nuzzling the side of his face. “Would you like another drink, darling?”

“Wh-what? Oh.” Will managed to stop himself from stepping away. Undercover. They were undercover. Be convincing. He let out a shaky breath. Forced himself to relax. He turned his face toward Hannibal. “Y-yeah, thanks. Uh. Babe.”

The toothy man’s face fell. “Aw. Figures the pretty ones are always taken.” He turned away, and immediately began chatting up the young man further down the bar.

“Rude,” Hannibal said against Will’s face.

Will stiffened, then gently extracted himself from Hannibal’s arm. “Because he called me pretty?”

“No, Will. You are very pretty. The man didn’t excuse himself.”

Will huffed a laugh. “Probably didn’t like you. Anyway, we should–”

“Ah, I think it may be best if we didn’t split up, yes? We may avoid more… interruptions and distractions.” Hannibal winked.

“Ha, right. Yeah, probably. You wanna dance?”

The look on Hannibal’s face was priceless. A subtle hint of alarm in the widening of his eyes. Will burst out laughing.

“I’m just fucking with you, Doctor Lecter. Let’s just… uh. Work the room.” He grinned.

“Yes. That would be best. We don’t want to do anything that would make our ruse too apparent.”

* * *

_The next day…_

“Good work, Will. Doctor Lecter. We caught another one.” Jack shook Hannibal’s hand, then clapped Will on the back.

Will focused on cleaning his glasses. “It was mostly Doctor Lecter this time. If it wasn’t for him, I probably would have been, uh. Swept away.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Found someone you liked?”

“W-what? No, but as it turns out, I’m. Er…”

“To the taste of many of the patrons,” Hannibal supplied with a smile. “We were interrupted several times by hopefuls, both young and old.”

Jimmy snorted. “I coulda told you that. Graham’s got a Quality, ya know?”

“Yeah, as long as he doesn’t open his mouth,” Bev added.

“Obviously. Good thing you had Doctor Lecter along, or you’da been a goner!”

“Yeah, well. If I ever have to go undercover to a gay bar again, I know who to call.” Will slid his glasses back onto his face and scowled in Jimmy’s direction.

“Please do. It was very interesting, to play agent for an evening. And to see you attempt to… blend in.”

“Don’t you dare psychoanalyze me about this one, Doctor.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Will.”

Jimmy leaned in toward Beverly, making no attempt to lower his voice. “Woulda loved to see that.”

Grinning, Bev nodded. “Maybe we can ask Doctor Lecter for a full report of the events.”

“Nope!” Will said, too loudly.

Hannibal ducked his head in deference to Will. “I’m afraid my lips are sealed, Miss Katz, Mister Price. Will is my friend, and I wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

Will sighed with relief. “Can we get back to wrapping this up?”

Jimmy pouted. “Oh, fine. Party pooper.”


	4. Rent Boy/Prostitute AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trope two ways!
> 
> The first: Will is a rent boy to pay his way through college. He knocks on Hannibal's motel door.
> 
> The second: Hannibal is a prostitute in a seedy part of town. He sees Will at the corner, and approaches him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, more trope ruining! I'm the worst! This was a fun and interesting challenge again. I started out this whole thing just to kinda mess around with tropes but like. It's definitely been an adventure in trying to not take it the obvious places? Especially 'cause these two have so much damn chemistry! LOL Anyhoo, hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Thanks go out to [carrioncrowned](http://archiveofourown.org/users/carrioncrowned) and [Devereauxs_Disease](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease) for help and feedback! <3

## Will the Rent Boy

It’s not like Will wanted to be a prostitute. It wasn’t the sort of thing most people aspired to. Most college students worked as baristas or convenience stores or retail shops.

And it wasn’t like Will hadn’t tried all those other things. The trouble was, he wasn’t that great with  _ the public _ . Entitled assholes demanding their half-caf double espresso caramel whatevers, or trying to haggle their way to a discount (“Look, there’s a stain on the collar! Gimme twenty percent off!”) just really tried his patience. 

One on one was different. People didn’t need him to be himself, here. Actually, they didn’t even  _ want  _ him to be himself. It was much easier to glean what a person wanted when all it took was reflecting their desires back at them. Will figured he may as well do something he was good at.

Besides, it paid better. All it cost him was some dignity. Something he didn’t have much of anyway.

The motel was a familiar sight. A lot of his clients ended up here. Probably because it was relatively upscale, as far as motels went. It wasn’t the sort of place that rented by the hour. Most of the time, it was people on business looking for a discreet companion. 

Will sauntered down the hallway, almost to the end. The e-mail had said room 317. Second last door on the left. He stood in front of the door, and knocked.

A middle-aged man answered. Sandy hair, neatly combed. Deep-set eyes and chiseled features. Plush lips. He was still wearing a sticker on his suit jacket:  _ Hello! My Name is Dr Hannibal Lecter _ . Definitely not what Will expected from the e-mail. Fancy.

The man, Hannibal, frowned. “May I help you?”

“O-oh. Uh. I-I’m here about the collection.” Will ran a hand through his hair, glancing down the hallway.

The frown deepened. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean?”

“We uh, spoke through e-mail? MongooseGotYourSnake?”

Hannibal shook his head. Will suppressed a sigh. He hated when people lost their nerve and changed their minds. Wasting his time.

He took a step toward the door. “Listen, I came all the way out here because of you. If you changed your mind, fine, but I’m still charging for the trip. Seventy-five bucks.”

Understanding flitted across the man’s face. “Ah, I see. Well. I’m sorry you went to all that trouble, but I’m afraid I’m not the one you were corresponding with. Perhaps you have the wrong room?”

Will looked at the door. 217. He was on the wrong fucking floor. “O-oh. Shit. Uh. I-I’m so, so sorry. Oh, god. I--”

“It is no trouble, young man. I do hope you find who you were looking for. Have yourself a good evening.”

So. Humiliating. “Yeah, y-you too. G’night.” Will hunched his shoulders and headed for the stairs. Feeling like the world’s biggest idiot.

 

* * *

 

## Hannibal the Street Walker

Hannibal used to think that dignity was essential. If he had his dignity, he could lose anything and everything, and remain unaffected. He learned quickly, however, that dignity didn’t mean much when you needed to eat. 

He liked to think he fed on the dignity of others, instead. People debased themselves for him so easily. For only a few fleeting hours of pleasure. So often, he didn’t even have to work at it. They were ready and willing, falling to their knees and asking to be used. Humiliated, beaten.

The stretch of street Hannibal frequented was swarming with people. Tourists and locals alike perused the myriad little shops and pretended not to notice the derelict sidewalks and rundown buildings. It wasn’t  _ really _ a bad part of town, it was just old. Historical. 

Every so often someone would pause to look at the other offerings. The variety of people who displayed themselves in varying states of undress, as little as they could get away with, in the hope of attracting an affluent but lonely stranger.

There was a man on the corner, there. Hannibal noticed he’d been standing there for quite a while. At first, it seemed he was just taking in the sights, perhaps overwhelmed by the bustle and noise. But Hannibal followed the man’s troubled gaze to the opposite corner. There was a small cluster of Hannibal’s… peers. Lonely, then.

Putting on a casual, unobtrusive affect, Hannibal approached.

“Hello.” He gave a light smile, just a slight curve to his lips.

The man startled, and looked his way. It was clear he was avoiding Hannibal’s eyes. “... Uh. Hi?”

“You have the look of a man who is in need of some company.”

The statement took a moment to sink in. The man’s eyes widened. “O-oh, I’m uh. Not looking for… S-sorry, but. No thank you.”

“Pity. Are you a local, or a visitor?”

“J-just uh. Just a visitor. I’d read about this area, but it’s another thing to see it.”

“Indeed. There is a lot of history, here, if you’ve a mind to look.” Hannibal held out his hand. “I’m Hannibal. Are you certain you aren’t interested in the… full experience?”

“W-Will Graham. Um. Yeah, I’m sure.” He shook Hannibal’s hand briefly, eyes wandering everywhere but Hannibal’s face. His eyes settled on another man, not too far off, and he huffed a laugh. “I think that guy might be interested, though.”

Hannibal followed Will’s gaze. The man in question wasn’t even looking in Hannibal’s direction, but his body language suggested impatience and interest. Perceptive. “Ah, I believe you may be right.”

“Yeah. Well uh. Nice meeting you.”

“Likewise.” Hannibal smiled. “Enjoy the rest of your visit.”

Will shot a smile back, then turned and walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy this nonsense of mine, and want to make suggestions for tropes, feel free to comment here, or message me/send me an ask [at my Tumblr!](http://chronicopheliac.tumblr.com)
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
